Second Childhood
by kippersvindaloo
Summary: An electrical surge has unexpected results on Lister and Rimmer
1. Chapter 1

AN: After getting some feedback about script fics, I've decided to replace my original fic with a version in regular format. Hopefully this will make it better and easier to read. Thank you to those of you who took the time to give me feedback; it's always appreciated.

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, and I'm not making any money from this, so please don't sue me.

Second Childhood 

Lister had just sat down in the drive room with a hot plate of beef vindaloo when Cat came walking in.

"How'm I looking?" Cat asked no one in particular. Lister had learned a long time ago to ignore Cat when he asked appearance-related questions; Cat didn't want an answer from anyone but himself.

Cat pulled a mirror out of his coat pocket and answered his own question. "I'm looking nice! Oww!" He danced over to the vending machine.

"Make a selection, please," the vending machine said.

Lister swallowed his forkful of food. "He'll have fish."

Cat turned to Lister, looking indignant. "Hey! Let me order my own meal!"

"You always have fish," Lister said. "Every day it's the smegging same."

Cat shrugged. "So I like fish. But it's always a different kind of fish. And I don't always have fish—sometimes I have chicken. I'm too classy to eat the same thing two days in a row. Unlike some monkeys."

"Yeah, yeah," Lister said.

The vending machine felt the need to remind anyone within earshot that it was waiting. "Make a selection, please."

"Fish," Cat said. Lister rolled his eyes and tucked into his dinner.

"Today's fish is salmon with dill," the vending machine said as it produced Cat's meal for him. "Enjoy."

Cat took the fish and danced to the other unoccupied seat in the drive room, singing his usual mealtime song. "I'm going to eat you, little fishie…I'm going to eat you, little fishie…"

Luckily, to save things from getting completely boring, Rimmer entered the Drive Room. Lister knew Rimmer hated it when anyone ate in the Drive Room; Rimmer hated it when anyone did anything in the Drive Room. Come to think of it, Lister wondered if maybe Rimmer hated it when anyone did anything, just to save time that would've otherwise been used deciding what to hate and what not to hate.

Rimmer folded his arms and looked displeased. "Has this room turned into a cafeteria without me realizing it?"

"Weren't you notified?" Lister asked with his mouth full. "It changed last Monday."

"Very funny," Rimmer said, looking not at all amused. "Why are neither of you working?"

Cat looked offended. "Work? With my good looks? You must be joking."

"You worked under Queeg," Lister reminded him. Sometimes Cat's memory was a little too focused on the short-term.

"Yeah, and I almost ruined the knees of my good pink suit! Never again," Cat said, bending forward to eat his fish.

"That doesn't excuse you, does it, Lister?" Rimmer asked.

Lister smiled at his hologrammatic—friend was too nice a word. Acquaintance? Crewmate? Arch-nemesis? "Well, maybe you want to pick me up and drag me to the hallway so I can scrub the floor."

Rimmer, as usual, wasn't fond of being reminded that he was a hologram. "Oh, that's right. Rub it in. Eat in front of me while you make jokes about me not being able to touch anything. Splendid fun. It must be Hologram Appreciation Day; I'm having such a good time."

Cat rolled his eyes, collected what was left of his fish, and left the room. Lister wasn't surprised; if he weren't involved in the conversation, he'd want to leave too. "Do you know how?"

"How to do what?" Rimmer asked.

"Have a good time," Lister said, trying to picture Rimmer at a pub with friends or at a disco. It wasn't an easy task.

"Of course I do," Rimmer said, sounding a touch defensive, as if he had something to prove. "I spent years of fun collecting pictures of telegraph poles."

Lister looked at Rimmer to see if he was serious, but he seemed to be. "That's not what I mean. I mean actual fun. You know, something that doesn't involve boredom."

Rimmer looked baffled. "What's boring about telegraph poles?"

Lister knew he was making a sour face, but he couldn't help it. "Nothing, if you're a telegraph pole."

"Well, I still have the upper hand as far as verbal jollity is concerned, Lister," Rimmer said, "because, as I'm sure you haven't forgotten, you are still pregnant."

Lister banged his head against the back of his chair. "Oh, smeggin' hell!"

These days, when Rimmer was losing an argument with Lister, Rimmer always mentioned Lister's pregnancy as a final blow to win the argument. Unfortunately, most of the time, it worked. Lister was incredibly embarrassed and nervous about being pregnant. Getting pregnant wasn't anything he'd ever considered in much detail, and now he was being forced to take a good look. Frankly, it scared him. He was sorry Rimmer had to know about it at all.

Rimmer, for his part, looked extremely self-satisfied. "That's right. Now, granted, it's only two months and you're not showing yet, but that very fact should keep me in witty repartee for ages to come."

Holly's face appeared on the viewscreen. "Emergency. There's an emergency going on."

"What is it, Hol?" Lister asked.

"We're approaching a major asteroid belt," Holly said. "The asteroids are big enough to take out all life support if one hits us in the wrong place."

Rimmer gestured for more information. "And?"

Holly thought about it for a minute. "And I thought I'd try to wiggle around 'em."

Lister didn't like the sound of that. "What about us? Have we got any back-up plan?"

Holly shook his head. "No."

Rimmer smiled insincerely. "Well, there you are. Silly me. I was thinking we might actually be underprepared."

Lister envied Rimmer in circumstances like these. Sure, he was dead, but if asteroids did hit the ship, the loss of life support wouldn't affect him at all. But maybe there was a way to make up the difference. "Can you upload my memories, Holly?"

Rimmer looked as if he felt nothing but pity for poor, stupid Lister, but Holly nodded. "Yeah, I can do that."

Rimmer turned to face the computer. "And mine as well?"

"You're already a hologram. Why do you need your memories uploaded?" Lister asked.

"Haven't you ever heard of a back-up disk?" Rimmer asked.

"All right," Holly said. "Memory upload about to commence. Just so you know, it'll go quicker for Arnold because he's already computerized. Put on your sensory helmet, Dave."

Lister complied, putting on the sensory helmet. He had his doubts about some of the equipment on Red Dwarf, including the sensory helmet, which looked like a bicycle helmet painted silver. But if it worked, he didn't care what it looked like. Lister sat back and tried to relax as the helmet turned on and began humming.

"Memory uploading," Holly said. "Oh, look, an electrical surge."

"A what?" Lister said, leaning forward.

Sparks shot from the navicomp and control panels, and Lister went flying. He hit the ground and blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

"Right," a male voice said. "I'll need to go into self-analysis mode for an hour or two to see what just happened."

Dave opened his eyes, looking for whoever had spoken, but he didn't see anybody. He sat up, looking at the gray room with interesting multi-colored buttons all around. Maybe he would come back and press some of those buttons once he figured out what this place was and why he was here. He wondered if there were any other eight-year-olds about; maybe this was some new kind of school.

"Hello?" Dave asked. "Is anybody here?"

Nobody answered, so Dave got to his feet, wandering into the corridor and looking for company.

Arnold knew there must be bullies around here somewhere. Wherever he was, bullies always seemed to follow. There was a nice low table in the room where he was now, so he sat underneath it and hid, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around so that he almost made a ball. If they wanted to hurt him, they would have to try hard.

Someone came into the room. Arnold held his breath, hoping that whoever it was would go away. He liked to be alone; then he could do whatever he wanted without other people laughing at him or tying him up.

Whoever it was crouched next to the table, looking under at Arnold. "Hey."

Arnold looked at the stranger, trying to figure out what would happen, but whoever it was, he looked friendly. "Hi."

"What are you doing?" the stranger asked.

"Hiding," Arnold said.

"Can I hide too?" the stranger asked.

"Sure," Arnold said, shrugging.

The stranger swung himself underneath the table, landing neatly next to Arnold. "My name's Dave."

"My name's Arnold," Arnold said. Should he ask? No, it was stupid. He wouldn't ask. Yes, he would. "But…could you call me Ace?"

Dave nodded. "Sure."

Arnold looked at Dave in surprise. "Really?"

Dave smiled. He looked even friendlier when he smiled. "Yeah."

Arnold knew what to expect by now when someone agreed to call him Ace. He squinched his eyes shut, trying to get ready for the blows. "Go ahead."

"What are you doing?" Dave asked.

Arnold opened one eye, and then the other, looking at Dave. "Don't you want to hit me?"

Dave looked confused. "No."

"Usually people say they'll call me Ace if I let them beat me up," Arnold explained.

Dave made a face. "And you do it?"

"Sure," Arnold said.

Dave looked out, seeing what was in front of the table, and then he looked back at Arnold. "Who are we hiding from?"

"Bullies," Arnold said.

Dave straightened up, puffing out his chest a little. "I'm not afraid of bullies."

Arnold looked at Dave, surprised. "You're not?"

"Are you?" Dave asked.

Arnold hesitated. Then he nodded, staring at the floor. He knew he wasn't supposed to be afraid of things like bullies, but he was anyway. Maybe when he got older, he'd grow out of it.

"We're mates, right?" Dave asked.

Arnold didn't know. "I guess so."

"Then let's not hide anymore," Dave said, crawling out from underneath the table.

"What are you doing?" Arnold asked, aghast. "What if someone comes?"

Dave shrugged. "I'll fight 'em."

"Why?" Arnold asked.

"So they won't try to beat us up again," Dave said.

Arnold had never thought of that. "Will that work?"

"It usually does," Dave said.

Encouraged by Dave's act of bravery, Arnold crawled out from beneath the table too. He looked at his new friend. "Wow. You're just like Napoleon."

"Who?" Dave asked.

Arnold could hardly believe Dave hadn't heard of Napoleon; didn't everyone's parents tell stories about great military leaders? "Napoleon. He was a fantastic general."

Dave nodded. "Oh."

"I've got a lot of toy soldiers," Arnold said, excited to have someone new to play with. "You can play with them too if you want."

Dave looked interested. "Really?"

"Do you want to?" Arnold asked.

Dave grinned. "That'd be brutal!"

Arnold didn't like the sound of that. "Brutal?"

"It means good," Dave explained.

Arnold nodded in relief. "Oh." He decided to try the word himself. "Brutal!"

Dave looked around the room. "Where are your toys, Ace?"

"In my chest," Arnold said, looking around for the chest. It was in the corner of the room, so he pointed to it. "It's right over there."

Dave walked over to the chest, opening the lid, and looking at its contents with interest.

"You get bagsies on the soldiers you want," Arnold said, "but I want you to have the one on top."

Dave picked up the one on top. "This one? Why?"

"It's my favorite," Arnold said. After Dave had promised to defend him against bullies, letting him play with one of Arnold's favorite toys seemed like the least he could do.

Dave seemed to know that. "Thanks!" He made the wooden soldier walk across the carpet. "Where are we, anyway? Is this your house?"

Arnold suddenly felt nervous. "No. Isn't it summer camp?"

Dave laughed. "Right. What would I be doing at a summer camp?"

"I don't know," Arnold said, his heart starting to beat faster. "My toys are here, so I thought—do you remember coming here?"

Dave shook his head. "No. You?"

"No," Arnold said. "What if we've been kidnapped?"

"We haven't been kidnapped," Dave said. "We'd remember if we had."

"Then where are we?" Arnold asked, his lower lip starting to tremble. "I don't like it here. I want my mum."

"Maybe she's here somewhere, Ace," Dave said.

Arnold's panic started to subside. "You think so?"

Dave stood up. "We could look."

Arnold stood up, and for the first time, he realized that the floor was further away than it should be. "Dave? How old are you?"

"Eight," Dave said. "How old are you?"

"Seven and a half," Arnold said, realizing that he was taller than Dave. That couldn't be right, could it?

"How come we're so tall?" Dave asked.

"I don't know," Arnold said, noticing the stubble on Dave's face for the first time. "You look grown-up."

Dave nodded. "So do you."

Maybe being grown-up should've made Arnold feel better, but instead, it made him feel worse. Why was he grown up all of a sudden? Where was he, and was there anybody he knew nearby? He was glad he wasn't alone, at least. Having someone with him who was having the same problems made him feel a little better, but he was still frightened.

"I don't like this place," Arnold said. "I want to go home."

Dave gestured to the doorway. "Let's have a look for your mum."

"Okay," Arnold said.

They headed for the door, but Arnold tripped. He began to call out to Dave, to tell him to move, but before he could say, "Look out!", he fell through Dave.

"Hey!" Dave yelped, jumping away.

Arnold lay on the floor for a minute, trying to make sense of the latest scary thing that had happened to him. Then he stood up.

"How'd you do that?" Dave asked.

"I don't know," Arnold said.

"Am I a ghost or are you?" Dave asked.

Arnold swallowed. "What do you mean, ghost?"

"Ghosts can walk through walls and things," Dave said.

He was older, so Arnold figured he knew about things like that. "But ghosts aren't real, are they?"

"I know how we can find out," Dave said. He knocked on the wall.

Arnold knocked on the wall…and his hand faded through the wall. He jerked his hand back, looking at it. It felt real. He touched his nose. His hand didn't go through his face. That was probably good; if it had, he might've touched his brains, and that would've been disgusting.

Dave was staring at Arnold in awe. "It's you."

"So if I'm a ghost, that means," Arnold said, trying to understand.

"You're dead," Dave said.

Arnold felt his panic return. He didn't want to be dead. "I don't remember dying. Isn't that something I'd remember?"

"I dunno," Dave said. "Maybe someone around here can tell us." He looked around the room. "Hello? Is anybody here?"

A man's head appeared in the mirror by a set of bunk beds. "What's happening, then?"

Dave walked over to the mirror, looking at it with interest. Arnold followed Dave, hanging behind him a little.

"Who are you?" Dave asked.

"Is that a trick question?" the head in the mirror asked.

"No," Dave said.

"I'm Holly," the head in the mirror said.

"Holly who?" Arnold said, peeking from behind Dave.

"Just Holly," Holly said.

"Do you know who we are, Holly?" Dave asked.

"Of course," Holly said, looking pleased. "Dave Lister and Arnold Rimmer. That was easy. Ask me another."

Arnold stepped out from behind Dave. "Where's my mum?"

"Dead by now, I imagine," Holly said.

Arnold began to whimper. His mum was dead? He'd never see her again? He suddenly felt much more alone now that he knew she wasn't here.

Dave patted him on the shoulder. "Steady on, Ace."

Arnold nodded and swatted at his eyes.

"Holly?" Dave said.

"Yes, Dave?" Holly said.

"Where are we?" Dave asked.

"On board the mining ship Red Dwarf," Holly said. "I like these questions. Simple. Direct. Nothing too technical about them."

Dave looked surprised. "We're on a spaceship?"

"Yeah," Holly said. "That's why you can see those little specky things out the window. Stars, they're called."

Both Arnold and Dave turned to look out the window, and like Holly said, the stars were there. Arnold wondered how far away he was from home, but didn't dare to ask.

Dave had another question ready. "Holly, how old are we?"

"You're twenty-five," Holly said. "Rimmer's twenty-eight."

Arnold shook his head. "I'm not twenty-eight. I'm not even eight."

"And I'm just eight," Dave said.

Holly frowned. "I don't think that's—Gordon Bennet. It's all gone, innit?"

Arnold looked around the room. "What's gone?"

"Your memories," Holly said. "You asked me to upload your memories, and then there was that power surge. I didn't upload 'em, I nicked 'em."

"Can you give us our memories back?" Dave asked.

Holly nodded. "I think so. Give me a bit to think about it."

Holly faded from view, and Arnold and Dave turned to face each other.

"What do we do?" Arnold asked, hoping Dave had a plan.

"I don't know," Dave said. "Hey—you've got an H in the middle of your forehead."

"I do?" Arnold touched his forehead, and oddly enough, there seemed to be a piece of plastic on it.

Dave pointed to Holly's viewscreen. "Look. It's a mirror again."

Both Arnold and Dave turned to look into it. Arnold knew what Dave looked like by now, but he wasn't prepared for his own reflection. He'd still expected to look like himself, but whoever was in the mirror didn't look anything like him. He was tall and old, and…old. He looked old enough to be one of his parents' friends. This was what he was going to look like when he grew up?

"I look so weird," Arnold said.

Dave looked disturbed by his reflection. "Me too."

Arnold touched the letter on his head. "It is an H. I wonder if I can take it off." He tried to pull it off, but it was stuck on tight, and when he tried to get his fingernails underneath it, it hurt. "Ow!"

"It's stuck on, then?" Dave asked.

Arnold nodded. "It feels like it's part of my face."

"Maybe it's part of being a ghost," Dave said.

Arnold didn't want to think about being a ghost. "Don't say that. I don't like it."

Dave rolled his eyes, looking annoyed. "Well, then, let's never say anything you don't like ever again."

Arnold didn't know much, but he knew when he was being teased. "Stop it."

"I don't take orders from you!" Dave said.

"Well, I hate you!" Arnold said, his voice rising in volume.

"I hate you more!" Dave said.

"You're stupid!" Arnold shouted.

"You're ugly!" Dave shouted back.

Arnold held out his hand. "Give me my soldier back."

"Fine!" Dave said. He threw the soldier at Arnold, and Arnold tried to duck, but the soldier passed through him. "You can't even touch anything because you're stupid and you're dead!"

"Go away," Arnold said.

"Maybe I will!" Dave said, sticking his tongue out at Arnold before he stormed out of the room.

Arnold turned to the mirror. "Holly?"

Holly appeared. "If you want me to get these calculations done, I'll need a few minutes. I haven't used algebra in a few millennia."

"Holly, am I dead?" Arnold asked.

Holly nodded. "Yeah."

Arnold bit his lower lip hard. "I am?"

"Yeah," Holly said. "Anything else?"

"No," Arnold said. Then he remembered his manners. "Thank you."

Holly faded from the mirror, and it turned into a mirror again. Arnold turned around, throwing himself onto the bottom bunk and hiding his face in his pillow. At least nobody was around to hear him cry.


	3. Chapter 3

It only took a little while for Dave to feel bad about getting into a fight with Ace. After all, if Dave were dead, Ace probably wouldn't have made fun of him for being afraid. Not that Dave would've been afraid, but if he had, he was sure Ace wouldn't have made fun of him. Dave decided to go back to Ace's room and apologize.

Ace was lying on his bed, staring at his open chest of toy soldiers when Dave peeked into the room.

"Ace?" Dave said.

"Go away," Ace said, sounding cross.

Dave took a few steps into the room. "I'm sorry about what I said. You're not really dead."

Ace looked at him. "Yes, I am."

Dave blinked. "What?"

"I asked Holly, and he said I am," Ace said.

Dave crossed the room and sat in a chair near Ace's bed. "Oh-ey. Sorry."

Ace stared at his bed. "I didn't get to be very old, did I?"

"You're almost thirty," Dave said. "That's pretty old."

Ace shook his head. "Some people get to be a hundred fifty. That's old. Thirty isn't anything."

Dave thought for a minute, trying to figure out a way to comfort Ace. "But you're a ghost, right?"

"Right," Ace said.

"So you didn't really die. You just sort of…seemed to die and came back. And you can't die again," Dave said.

Ace looked at Dave as he moved into a sitting position. "That's true."

Now Dave was on solid ground. "And you're here on a ship with your best mate."

Ace looked around the room. "Do you think we live here?"

Dave shrugged. "I don't know. If we do, think of all the fun we can have once we get back to normal."

Ace didn't look too excited. "We probably have things we're supposed to do once we're old again."

"So?" Dave asked. He didn't understand why his friend wasn't excited about being in space. Space was amazing. It was so big. He'd never thought about going into space before, but he was glad he got to do it when he got older. "Spaceships have lots of things to do. They have restaurants and cinemas and everything. We'll still be friends."

Ace looked up hopefully. "You think?"

"Pinkie swear," Dave said, holding up his pinkie. Then he remembered that Ace couldn't touch him, and was about to put his hand down.

Ace held up his own hand, extending the pinkie. Dave was careful not to get his hand too close to Ace's as they pretended to link pinkies, shake, and then release.

"I haven't had much luck with friends," Ace said, sounding wistful.

"Yeah, but this is gonna be different," Dave said. "I mean, look around. There's no adults to tell us what to do, except Holly. And when we're grown-up, we get to tell ourselves what to do anyway."

"I guess you're right," Ace said.

Dave smiled. "Of course I'm right. I'm half a year older than you."

Ace brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. "You're lucky."

Dave shrugged. "You'll be older than me soon."

"I hope it doesn't hurt," Ace said.

"Even if it does, it's only for a second, like a shot," Dave said. Maybe that wasn't the best comparison to make.

"I hate shots," Ace said, wincing.

"Me too," Dave agreed. They sat there for a minute, not sure what to do. "You wanna play soldiers while we're waiting?"

"There's not much good in that," Ace said. "I can't pick them up."

Dave had forgotten that. "Oh yeah."

Holly appeared in the mirror. "Dave Lister, report to the Drive Room."

The Drive Room? "Where's that, Holly?"

"It's where you first woke up," Holly said.

Dave nodded. "Okay."

"I'll give you more instructions once you're there," Holly said as he faded out.

Dave and Ace looked at each other. Dave was nervous about this, and he could tell Ace was as well.

"Well," Dave said, trying to do his part as the older of the two and be brave, "I guess when I see you again, I'll be twenty-five."

Ace nodded. "I guess so."

Dave hated to leave him here by himself. "Do you wanna come?"

"Holly didn't want me there," Ace said.

"Yeah, but…I'd feel better if you were there," Dave said.

Ace looked at Dave and managed to smile. "Okay."

They headed off to the Drive Room.


	4. Chapter 4

Holly was waiting for them when they got to the Drive Room. "Right. Now, Dave, put on the shiny helmet on the floor there."

Arnold looked at the helmet. It didn't look like anything much, but maybe it would work.

"What is it?" Dave asked.

"It's a cranial upload/download device," Holly said.

Arnold looked at Dave to see if he understood what Holly meant, but Dave shrugged.

"It's gonna give you your memory back," Holly said.

"Oh," Arnold and Dave said at the same time.

Dave put the helmet on.

"You'd better sit down," Holly said. "These things have a tendency to make you shake and jerk around a bit."

"Is that normal?" Arnold said, feeling a little worried about his friend.

"Eh?" Holly said.

"I said, is that normal?" Arnold repeated.

Holly glanced from side to side before replying, as if he were looking for someone to tell him the answer. "Oh. Yeah. Sure it is."

If Dave was scared, he didn't show it. He gave Arnold the thumbs-up sign as he sat down. "See you soon."

"See you," Arnold said, trying very hard not to worry.

"Beginning memory download process," Holly said.

Dave's head lolled back and his eyes closed. Arnold started to chew on his fingernails as Dave jerked back and forth in his chair. Finally, Dave stopped moving.

"Memory download process complete," Holly said.

After a minute, Dave opened his eyes. "Did you upload them then, Hol?" His voice sounded stronger somehow, more self-assured.

"Yes, Dave," Holly said.

"Because I was just having this wild dream," Dave said. "I was eight, and I was here, and so was…" He trailed off as he saw Arnold. "Rimmer."

Arnold didn't know why Dave was calling him by his last name, but maybe that was a grown-up thing. Maybe he would call Dave by his last name when he was an adult too. Cautiously, Arnold waved at Dave. "Hi, Dave."

Dave looked surprised, but he smiled at Arnold. "Hey."

"Are you back to normal?" Arnold asked. It was a stupid question, but now that Dave was so much older than Arnold was, he didn't know what to say anymore.

Dave nodded. "Yeah."

"Did it hurt very much?" Arnold asked.

"No," Dave said.

Arnold finally worked up the nerve to ask the question he really wanted the answer to. "Are we still friends?"

Dave looked as if he didn't know how to answer. "I'm not sure you'll want to be friends with me once you're back to normal."

Arnold laughed. "What are you talking about? Of course I will!" Why wouldn't he want to be friends with Dave? Wait. Maybe they had a fight in the future, and Arnold didn't know about it yet. "Nothing…happens, does it?"

Dave tilted his head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't do anything to make you mad at me?" Arnold asked.

Lister almost smiled. "No, you don't do anything to make me mad."

Arnold nodded with relief. "Should I do it, then?"

"Go ahead," Dave said.

"Okay," Arnold said. He bounced up and down on his toes a few times to work up some bravado. "Holly, give me back my memories, please."

"Beginning memory download process," Holly said.

He felt dizzy, and then he was falling. He landed on the floor, but it didn't hurt because the bees that seemed to be swarming through his brain were taking all his attention at the moment.

"Rimmer?"

"Memory download process complete," Holly said.

Rimmer opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor. Why was he lying on the floor? He blinked a few times as he got up.

Lister was crouched by his side, looking unusually anxious. "How are you, man?"

"Fine," Rimmer said. "Holly, was it supposed to take that…" Suddenly, he remembered what he had done, who he had temporarily become, and a tone of dread permeated the last word of his sentence. "…long?"

"I can't help it," Holly said. "I haven't got opposable thumbs to fix things when my wires get crossed."

Lister snorted. "Crossed is one thing. Shooting sparks is something else. Right, Rimmer?"

Rimmer hadn't been listening. He'd been thinking of all the embarrassing things he'd said to Lister in the past hour. "What?"

"You okay?" Lister asked.

"Yes, I just…I had these very strange…" Rimmer looked at Lister and decided not to tell him if he didn't already know. "Never mind." He got to his feet.

"Okay, Ace," Lister said.

Rimmer spun around to see if Lister was joking, but Lister didn't look like he was joking. He looked serious.

_We can still be friends, _the hopeful seven-year-old inside Rimmer said. _Can't we, Dave? _

_And what would I get for it? _Rimmer thought. A knife in the back. Humiliation for all eternity, or until Holly conks out. Lister was just waiting for Rimmer to trust him, and then he would do something to settle all their old scores. People were like that. You couldn't trust them.

_But he never betrayed me, _the seven-year-old said.

_Shut up, _Rimmer thought, silencing the hopeful voice. _Nobody's listening to you anymore._

"You threw a member of the Armee du Nord at me, you gimboid!" Rimmer snapped at Lister.

Lister looked taken aback, which was unusual for him. "It didn't break."

"Yes, well, it could have, you…pregnant git!" Rimmer said, turning on his heel and leaving the drive room.

He heard Lister sigh behind him. "Well, I see things are back to normal around here."

Rimmer quieted the small part of himself that said normal wasn't necessarily a good thing and marched off to check on the skutters.

THE END

AN: I hope the Lister/Rimmer/Dave/Arnold/Ace name switches were clear; let me know if they could be clarified. Thank you for reading!


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